


Displacement

by Gay_Jesus_Probably



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/F, F/M, Lesbian Character of Color, M/M, Michelle is that lesbian of colour fyi, OC Protagonist, gleeful mocking of old tropes, i've put entirely too much thought into this, im not proud of how long it took me to figure out how to format okay, latinx protagonist, more characters/tags coming as they become relevant, this fic is my behemoth fyi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-03 08:06:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11528076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gay_Jesus_Probably/pseuds/Gay_Jesus_Probably
Summary: Fifteen year old Michelle Ketros wakes up from a car crash, to find herself in an otherworldly hospital. Specifically, the Halls of Healing in the Jedi Temple. And everybody is convinced that she's just a Jedi Padawan suffering from amnesia after a blow to the head on a mission. How has Michelle ended up in a fictional universe? Can she get home? Should she use her knowledge of Star Wars, or let events play out? And, most of all, who is this other Michelle Ketros that everybody believes her to be?One things for sure. This is some 2008 fanfiction dot net level bullshit right here.Originally posted on FF.net, daily updates until caught up to the original.





	1. Part 1, Chapter 1: Waking Up

Waking up was a surprise.

What was more surprising was that Michelle appeared to have woken up somewhere that was completely unfamiliar. Well, it made sense for the room itself to be unfamiliar, considering the circumstances she had passed out in, but instead of the hospital room she was expecting, she appeared to be in some sort of…

Well.

There really wasn’t a way to describe the room beyond a sci-fi nerd’s wet dream. Not that she could judge, considering she was one of those sci-fi nerds. But frankly there was a time and a place for nerd shit, and mysteriously waking up in a room of nerd shit was so far outside her comfort zone it wasn’t even funny.

The door opened with a swoosh. Automatic. Okay then.

But the doors being automatic were probably not Michelle’s biggest problem, considering the fact that a goddamn alien had walked in the room.

“Um.” She said blankly, higher brain functions having all simultaneously packed their bags and called in their vacation time, as this shit was just too weird to deal with. She wished them the best.

“Padawan Ketros, glad to see you’re awake. You took a nasty hit to the head on the mission, and passed out on the transport home. Your master’s been worried sick about you, you’ve been out for two days!” The alien said, in a probably feminine voice, but really, who was Michelle to impose gender’s on a goddamn alien. And was it just Michelle, or did she (they?) look sort of like a twilek from Star Wars?

“What the- who are you?”

The purple alien twilek lady frowned, looking concerned.

“Michelle, I’ve been your healer since you were nine.”

“…How the fuck do you know my name? What are you talking about? What the hell is going on here!” Michelle demanded, voice steadily rising higher with panic as she scrambled backwards on the bed, avoiding the purple lady reaching for her.

“Oh dear. You seem to have gotten amnesia from that hit to the head. What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I- Okay. No. I need a minute here. Just. Explain? Where am I, who are you, and what’s going on here. Please.” Michelle stammered out, using her panic as a convenient excuse to dodge the question. Because if they thought she was a Jedi padawan, her last memory would raise more questions than it answered. That and it was a very Not Fun memory.

The purple woman paused, and seemed to evaluate how badly Michelle was freaking out, before sitting down in a chair by the bedside.

“That’s fair. I’m Jedi Master Laleh Devaron, and I work in the Halls of Healing. I’ve been your main healer since you were nine years old, replacing your old one who retired. You’re in the Halls of Healing, in the Jedi Temple, on Couruscant. Your name is Michelle Ketros. You’re fifteen years old, and are the padawan of Knight Coltin Andross. Is any of this sounding familiar?”

Michelle stared at Laleh in blank shock, mouth moving silently as she attempted to find words.

“I… need to. Go. Um. To the bathroom. Is there one nearby?” She said weakly, so completely done it wasn’t even funny. Looking mildly concerned, Laleh silently pointed at a door.

“Thanks.” Michelle said, giving an unconvincing smile, and bolting for the bathroom, locking herself in.

She then proceeded to sink to the floor and have a minor panic attack.

Because really, it was that or an existential crisis. And Michelle preferred to save those for crying at three in the morning in her own bed. That, and silently over chemistry notes whenever the subject of entropy came up.

After some amount of time hyperventilating on the floor, there was a knock at the door.

“Michelle? I understand that this is frightening for you, but you need to either calm down or come out, I can feel your anxiety levels from here, and they’re dangerously high. Not to mention you’ve got a head wound with complications. If you’re non-verbal right now, just knock the door in response.” Laleh said calmly, in a gentle even voice.

Well, it was awfully convenient for Michelle that the weird hallucination she was in was apparently used to people freaking out, as she was decidedly _not_ able to talk right now. Rapping her knuckles against the door was considerably more feasible though, so she went ahead and did that.

“Alright, are you hyperventilating right now? One knock for yes, two for no.”

She knocked once.

“That’s not good, considering you’ve got a head wound with complications. I need you to try and get your breathing under control for me, can you do that?”

Two knocks. There wasn’t a makeshift code knock for ‘go fuck yourself not happening’, but Michelle hoped the sentiment was conveyed anyways.

“…Sorry kiddo, that’s not how it works. Okay, so whenever you’re able, I need you to breathe in for four seconds, hold it for seven, and then breathe out for eight. Repeat that as much as you can, okay? It’s going to be okay. Reply whenever you’re able, it’s alright. You’re safe here.”

Michelle sincerely fucking doubted that, but the panic attack wasn’t helping anything. Breathing exercises it was.

It took a minute to get enough control on her breathing to manage it, but Michelle was eventually able to do the small breathing exercise. A surprising wave of calm swept through her during the breathing out, and she was able to repeat the pattern a few times, before her heart rate and breathing were somewhere in the range of normal.

“Sweetie? I can feel you’ve calmed down, can you talk to me, or do you need more time?”

Instead of replying, Michelle unsteadily got to her feet, and quickly splashed some water on her face from the sink, in a half-assed attempt to cover up the crying that started at some point during the panic attack. She looked up into the mirror to check if her eyes were red, and jumped in surprise.

The girl in the reflection was a virtual stranger.

Well. Not quite a stranger.

The light brown skin was the same, as was her height, face, and bright blue eyes. The only real difference was her hair, previously grown out to her waist and dyed a rich, vibrant shade of red, was now back to its natural colour of earthy brown, and barely brushed her shoulders. The only part even close to her original length was the single, thin braid that came down just past her breasts, and started just behind her ear.

A padawans braid.

Well. Shit. That would explain why she had been mistaken for a Jedi Padawan.

…But why had Laleh known her name? And age? And thought that she already knew Michelle? Last time she checked, she was not living in the Jedi temple. She was living in small town Alberta.

Well, as deeply confused as she was, staring at herself wasn’t going to accomplish anything, and she really didn’t want to make the healer outside break in. So, Michelle reluctantly tore her eyes away from her unfamiliar reflection, and opened the door.

Laleh had been kneeling in front of it, and was surprised with her coming out, jumping to her feet in response.

“Oh! Force, you startled me. Feeling better?”

“Tired now, but yeah.” Michelle muttered in response, honestly too emotionally drained to even question the surrealism her life had turned into. She was talking to a fucking twilek. She had turned into a Jedi padawan. Awesome. Wow.

“Well, you can get some sleep in a minute, I just need to run a few scans on you, okay? Make sure nothing serious is damaged in your head. Your neurochemistry’s a little strange, and we still don’t quite know what makes you tick, but we can tell if something’s gone seriously wrong. Not sure if we’ve got answers for the amnesia you clearly have, but hey. Can’t win em all.”

Michelle snorted quietly, and the response seemed to satisfy Laleh, as she got Michelle settled back on the bed, and murmured for her to stay still while she gently pressed her fingers around various points of Michelle’s head. Probably doing some Force shit. Because this was somehow the Star Wars universe, and it’s not like anything else in Michelle’s life made sense now.

After about a minute of the head-touching, Laleh pulled out a small device, and slowly waved it around on top of Michelle’s head, before examining a holographic readout on it.

“Hm… weird. Says here that everything’s normal. Well, you’re not in any danger to sleep, but I’d like to keep you the night just be certain. Alright?” Laleh said, giving Michelle a comforting smile.

“Okay.”

“Get some rest sweetie. As long as nothing comes up, your master will be able to bring you back home in the morning.” The twilek said warmly, patting Michelle on the shoulder before leaving the room, flicking the lights off as she went. The door closed behind her.

Michelle waited in bed for a few minutes, irrationally afraid of being caught, before slipping out from under the blankets, returning to the bathroom, and staring at herself once again.

Carefully, she lightly traces the bones of her face, making sure that it was really her, before running a hand through her hair, oddly short, but as thick as usual. The texture felt the same, despite it being the shortest she’d worn it in… well, ever.

At least the cut of her bangs was still the same, a short fringe that curled under her chin to frame her face. Although it stood out less with the rest of her hair being only a few centimeters longer.

Hesitantly, she tugged the braid, and was somehow surprised to find it real, as well as the royal blue ribbon woven in with it. Tugging harder caused a sharp pain from her scalp, due to the fact that she was pulling her own hair like an idiot.

So. This was probably real.

Well. Shit.

Michelle really wanted to lose her goddamn mind about everything, but frankly, was too drained to give a shit anymore. And that bed had been awfully soft…

Maybe this was all a dream, and she’d wake up to find herself home.

It was a small hope, but the best one she had. So, the teenager climbed back into the bed, pulled the covers up, closed her eyes, and did her best to not have that existential crisis.

It took a while to fall asleep.

~

_“Anyways, so I was thinking on the weekend we could go see a movie?” The girl driving the car suggested. In the passenger seat, Michelle grinned, and leaned back against her seat._

_“Yeah, sounds great. Anything in particular?”_

_“I dunno. Isn’t there some new claymation movie? Kubo and the Strings or something, I don’t know. I just love claymation, it’s so cool.” One of the boys in the backseat suggested, looking at the others for input._

_“I dunno, that stuff’s really more for kids. Hey, you okay dude?” The other boy in the backseat asked, leaning forwards and looking to the driver._

_“Yeah, fine, this guys just riding my ass. Honestly, you losers are lucky I’ve got a license and am willing to drive us all places.”_

_“We’re also lucky you’ve got rich parents that are willing to buy you a car to celebrate that license.” Michelle pointed out, although the humour in her voice made it clear that the words were meant with friendly joking._

_The driver looked over for a second to punch Michelle on the arm, grinning._

_“Man, shut up-“_

_“LOOK OUT!” One of the boys screamed. The driver shrieked in surprise, slamming on the breaks as a car in front of them spun out on the icy winter roads, entering right into their path._

_Behind them, the car that had been tailgating slammed into theirs. Michelle was knocked forwards with a jolt, and everything went black._

_The funny thing was, she almost thought she heard someone calling her name._


	2. Part 1, Chapter 2: Ash and Dust

Michelle woke up from the nightmare with a sharp inhale, heart pounding in her chest. For a long moment she lay frozen, the phantom feeling of violent impact keeping her paralyzed in blind terror, before she took a deep, shuddering breath, and sat up in bed.

The lights were still off, but the room was brighter, sunlight filtering in through the curtains outside.

And she was still in the Jedi temple hospital room.

Fuck.

Alone for now, she curled up, resting her head against her knees as she thought.

So. Last thing she remembered was getting into a car accident, as her nightmare had so kindly reminded her. Maybe it was somehow the reason for her mysterious teleportation? It was something worth thinking about.

…Maybe she was just in a coma.

This was some 2008 fanfiction dot net level bullshit right here.

Did that mean Michelle was the shitty self-insert? She hoped not. If she was actually based off someone, that would be a very sad someone.

Before her musing could go any further down the metaphorical rabbit hole, the door swooshed open again, and a man entered.

He was tall. Really tall. Human, fortunately, with a mop of curly dark brown hair, and warm eyes of a similar shade. He was wearing dark green Jedi tunics, without sleeves for some reason, showing his admittedly impressively muscled arms. He looked to be in his late twenties, and the laugh lines around his eyes suggested a cheerful personality. But right now, the man only looked relieved.

“Michelle! You’re awake! Oh thank _Force_ , I’ve been so worried about you! I mean honestly, I thought I’d gotten you killed or something, do you know what the council would do to me? Because I don’t, but I’ve certainly been imagining it. I mean, not that I wouldn’t absolutely deserve this hypothetical punishment because oh my god who gets their first Padawan killed? Me, apparently! Throw me off the temple spire, karma I am yours to do as you will!” He rambled, although there was a distinct note of humour to his words, and the words all seemed to be born out of joy that she was alright.

“I mean, it’s not like I’m actually dead. Right? If I’m dying and nobody’s told me, I’m gonna be pissed.” She warned in response, raising her eyebrows in slight alarm. The man laughed.

“Nah, you’re fine. Apart from that amnesia that seems to have cleared up…?”

“No, that is absolutely a thing. Also, who exactly are you?”

His face shifted from relief to worry again, eyebrows scrunching in concern.

“I’m Coltin Andross. I’m your master, padawan.” He said gently, and Michelle could almost see the shift of him wondering just how delicately she needed to be handled at this point. Stranded in a fictional universe or not, Michelle sure as shit wasn’t _fragile._

“Oh, good, I was worried you were a kidnapper or some shit. So, Laleh said that you’d be able to take me home today if I was still okay. …Am I still okay? Because this place looks like it’s gonna get really old, really fast, and I’d like to see this so called home I apparently have.”

His grin returned, although it wasn’t quite as large as it had been before. Good enough.

“Sure thing kid. Brought you some clothes, how about you get changed while I sort out the paperwork with Laleh?” Coltin suggested, tossing a cloth bag down on the bed. Inside the bag, there appeared to be a full change of clothes, although the only specific thing Michelle could see was the dark brown leather shoes sitting on top.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll just… change into this then.” She said, grabbing the bag and getting out of bed, heading over to the bathroom for the third time.

The whole clothing thing turned out to be slightly more complicated than she expected.

For starters, stripping led to the not entirely unwelcome surprise that her hairstyle wasn’t the only dramatically different part of herself.

Normally, Michelle’s stomach had a noticeably pudge to it, and the fact that the most exercise she got was pacing and walking to school was evident. She wasn’t exactly obese, but she certainly wasn’t trying out for any sports teams.

All of that was gone now. She was athletic. She was ripped. _She had a fucking six pack_.

On the downside, it seemed that with the lack of body fat, her former impressive curves were gone. She certainly wasn’t a pencil, but her hips seemed to have re-gained the ability to lie. And was it her imagination, or had she gone down a cup size?

But enough of staring at herself and touching her muscles. She had some weird clothes to put on.

Thankfully, the bra was standard, and fit comfortably – actually better than anything she’d had at home. Things were looking good already. Unfortunately, after that things went slightly downhill, as it seems her Jedi outfit was slightly outside of her usual taste.

The low cut teal tank top seemed to be some sort of undershirt, matched with black, baggy pants that seemed to be some sort of cross between sweat pants and yoga pants. Either way, they were comfortable, so whatever. The problem arose with the over shirt, which was a rich shade of purple, and hung longer than she was used to wearing her shirts. It also had an unfortunate lack of sleeves, which always made her twitchy for some damn reason. The neckline was a deep dramatic V-neck, which went down to the bottom of her ribcage, and the undershirt became the only thing keeping the outfit within the range of classy. And also within the nice range of not flashing people. Michelle greatly preferred to be in that range.

And the real problem was with a long strip of cloth, also a rich purple, but a lighter shade than the shirt. It wasn’t a scarf. It wasn’t a belt. There was no logical use for it.

After about five minute trying to puzzle it out, Michelle concluded that Jedi fashion was stupid, regardless of how good she looked, and left the fresher with the thing just held in her hand.

Coltin was waiting in the room for her, and he raised his eyebrows upon seeing her not in the full outfit.

“Couldn’t figure out how to put this on.” She explained without being asked, holding up the weird cloth thing in explanation.

“Kiddo, that’s your tabard.”

“I see, I see. And a tabard is…?”

Coltin snorted, and approached her, before holding out his hand, and silently asking for permission. After a moment’s hesitance, she gave the tabard to him, and let him put it on for her, it turning out to follow the edge of the shirt’s neckline, before wrapping around her hips. The end result did admittedly look good, and wasn’t overly weird, so Michelle was relatively cool with it. Even if she was fairly certain she wouldn’t be able to figure out how to put it on by herself.

Once she was fully dressed, the two left the room, and Coltin headed down the hall, clearly knowing where he was going. As Michelle didn’t, she trailed after him, trusting the man to know what was going on.

Laleh was sitting at a desk near what Michelle thought was the front, and waved at them on the way by. Coltin returned the gesture, and so did Michelle, although her wave was a bit shyer, on account of her feeling awkward as hell in the unfamiliar surroundings.

And then, they left the Halls of Healing, entering the main temple.

Even with Michelle’s limited knowledge of architecture, she could tell it was _beautiful_ , with a high, airy ceiling, columns along the walls, and the whole place lit by lights that Michelle couldn’t see, but that gave the impression of natural sunlight.  That, combined with the tan stone of the walls, gave the hall the impression of warmth and peace.

Coltin noticed her staring, and grinned.

“Can’t say I’ve ever seen you this happy walking out of the healers.” He joked, eyebrows raising.

“Sorry, I just… don’t remember any of this. It’s amazing seeing it for the first time.”

He patted her on the shoulder, the look on his face almost paternal.

“Don’t apologize for it, I completely understand. But, we should probably get you home, alright? Come on kiddo.”

Once again, she had no damn idea where home was, and just followed him. Honestly, this was starting to get frustrating.

But well, she was in the fucking Jedi temple. That made up for some of the frustration.

Upon reaching the apartment, Coltin opened the door and entered, followed by a slightly awkward Michelle.

Coltin kicked his shoes off at the entry, and Michelle followed suit, privately glad that apparently the Jedi didn’t wear shoes inside their own damn homes. Because that was weird. Who did that? Weird people.

Shoe-based judgement aside, the apartment’s aesthetic differed from the rest of the temple, in that instead of the elegant open design the public spaces seemed to prefer, the apartment was cozy, and had a distinct atmosphere of home to it.

There was a comfortable looking couch, dark brown with a slightly tacky, yet charming pattern on the fabric. Beside it was a matching loveseat, with a Jedi robe that someone had flung over the back. The coffee table had some clutter to it, in a box of tissues, a few devices Michelle didn’t recognize, and a pair of mugs, both empty of liquid, but dirty. There were three doors in the main room, two of them closed, and the open one leading to a bathroom. There was a fourth opening that led to a kitchen, which seemed to have the dining table inside of it.

Coltin noticed her examining the space, and sighed.

“Guess you don’t remember home either, huh?”

“Nope. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it kid. So, this is the living room, we take our shoes off at the door because we’re not barbarians, kitchen’s in there, fresher’s there, closed door on the left is my room, closed door on the right is your room. And I don’t know if you remember this quirk of yours or not, but don’t worry. I didn’t go into your room while you were out. Although we are missing an alarming amount of mugs, and I know it’s not me, so if you could clean up in there at some point, it would be very appreciated. Because if I have to drink my morning coffee right out of the pot, nobody’s going to be having fun.”

“Uh… actually, I think I need some time to myself to process everything. Is it okay if I just go and lock myself in my room for a while and question literally everything?”

“That’s fair. Yell if you need anything.”

And so Michelle fucked off to lock herself in what was apparently her room.

The first thing she noticed was that the room, while completely unfamiliar to her, certainly looked like a room that she would like to have.

There was a bed jammed in the corner, right up against the wall like she liked it, and covered in a dark blue comforter, and what seemed to be at least seven pillows. Which was excellent, as she was the sort of person that needed a fucking nest of pillows to have any hope at managing that whole ‘sleep’ thing. Not that she was much of a sleeper as it was, but whatever. Stuck to the wall over the bed was a string of what appeared to be Christmas lights, turned on and giving off faint, yet colourful light. Beside the bed was a desk, which had something that might have been a computer on it, and another stack of the devices that had been on the coffee table outside, and appeared to be something along the lines of tablets. And, as Coltin had pointed out, several used mugs were sitting in various places on the desk. Against one of the walls was a set of shelves, disorganized and cluttered with various objects. Michelle could tell what about half of them were for. On the floor was a pile of laundry, various pants, tunics and robes having been kicked together near the foot of the bed. A small door clearly led to a closet, and sticking her head inside showed that it was stocked with more clothing of a similar style, all Jedi tunics and pants.

Michelle exited the closet, and sat down on the bed, looking around at the room.

None of it was hers.

Anxiety welled up again, and she curled up in a ball, grabbing at her hair with an upset groan.

Going for her hair probably wasn’t the best move, as it only served to remind her of the changed style. There was literally nothing familiar to ground herself with anymore.

Right before she could tip over the edge into another goddamn panic attack, she heard a voice, faint and whispery.

“H-hello? Who’s there?” Michelle demanded, sitting up again and looking around.

 _‘Try meditating.’_ The voice said, clearer than before, yet still distant. And despite that, somehow, it sounded… weirdly familiar. Despite the fact that at the faint volume, all Michelle could really get from it was that it was feminine.

“Who are you?” She tried again, still looking in vain for the source of it.

‘ _Meditate.’_ The girls voice repeated, before Michelle got the odd sense that its presence had left.

“Fuck it. Nothing better to do.” She muttered under her breath, settling back down on the bed in a cross legged position, tipping her head back against the wall, and closing her eyes.

Michelle really wasn’t the sort of person to meditate, but for some reason today, she was able to focus almost immediately, the soft sound of her even breathing washing over her.

And then…

Lights.

Dozens- no, thousands of lights around her, shining in the void like stars, each one unique. Some were moving, some not, some gave off impressions of emotions, while others seemed shielded off.

The closest light was vaguely familiar, and radiated calm, mixed in with a slight undercurrent of worry. It felt like… Coltin?

Was this the Force?

 _‘Obviously. Do you not have that?’_ The girl’s voice said, volume slightly louder than it had been before.

“I- who are you? What’s going on here?”

_‘Ugh. Wish I knew. Let’s just say I think you’re getting the better end of the deal with this whole mess. Look, just play along with whatever assumptions everyone’s drawn, I’m going to busy for a while trying to fix this and figure out what happened. Don’t do anything stupid, alright?’_

“...The hell does that mean?”

_‘Hang on, we’ve got a better connection here, maybe I can get you to actually see me…’_

Around Michelle, a flat grey floor suddenly formed, as she felt a disconnect from her body. While it was sitting on the bed, and she was still aware of it, the awareness was faint, in the same way somebody knows that there’s something behind them, but they don’t care enough to check any details about it.

 _‘Need you to stay calm here, I think between the two of us we can get something to work with…_ ’ The voice said, now up to normal speaking tone, and sounding close. Like it was sitting across from Michelle.

Across from her in the mindscape, an outline formed, faint at first, but gaining distinction, shimmering slightly. She was just starting to see the shape of the person that was forming-

A hand came down on the shoulder of her body, and the meditation shattered, the teenager abruptly shoved back into her body.

Blinking rapidly to clear her suddenly spinning vision, she looked up to see a concerned Coltin standing above her.

“Sorry to bother you, but you weren’t answering the door, so I got worried. Anyways, since I forgot to earlier, here’s your lightsaber back. Please do not stab the walls.” He joked, offering a silver hilt to her. She hesitantly took it, inspecting the details carefully, feeling its steady weight in her hands. Something about it felt right, like it was meant to be in her hands. The feeling was probably the Force, since she apparently had access to it somehow.

“How do I activate it?” She asked after a moment, not finding an easy solution right away, and being oddly curious about the colour of the blade, and just how it felt to hold an activated lightsaber.

“Well, the first step is aiming away from your wonderful master… thank you, and then you just hit this button here, and- there you go!”

A bright blue blade activated, and the hilt hummed in Michelle’s hand, the feeling of rightness seeping into her bones. She let the moment hang, eyes fixated on the blue blade, before shutting it off again.

“Fuckin’ sweet.”

This was met with a gentle tug to her braid, courtesy of Coltin.

“Language.”

“Sorry.”

“Anyways, your hooliganism aside, the other reason I came in here is because your friends are here to see you, now that we’re sure you’re not dying or anything.”

“Oh, okay.” Michelle replied, still feeling slightly giddy from the feeling of holding a fucking lightsaber. Then the words caught up to her, and she dropped the hilt on her bed in surprise, looking at Coltin with wide eyes.

“Wait, I’m sorry, I have friends?”

* * *

 

Padawan Michelle Ketros, age 15, and newly arrived in a different dimension.

Knight Coltin Andross, age 28, and too cool for sleeves.


	3. Part 1, Chapter 3: Wipe My Brow, Sweat My Rust

“Wait, I have FRIENDS!?” Michelle blurted out, eyebrows raising in automatic surprise.

“Wow, rude.” A boy deadpanned, wandering into the room, followed by a graceful looking albino girl. She seemed to be older that Michelle, possibly around seventeen, while the boy seemed younger.

“What is that, a fucking gremlin?” Michelle blurted out, the words getting out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“I’m not a gremlin, I’m a twelve year old!” The boy replied, looking mildly offended.

“…Is there a difference?”

“You’re awfully salty today. Were the healers stabbier than usual?” The girl asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling in amusement.

“Uh, kids, she’s got amnesia. Doesn’t remember anything. Don’t take anything too personally, alright? Go easy on her.” Coltin ordered, before leaving, letting the kid and the girl into Michelle’s room.

“So… amnesia, huh?” The girl asked, her look shifting from amused to concern. Michelle was getting real sick of people being concerned over her. At least this time the worrier was a pretty girl.

“Yeah. Who are you by the way?” Michelle demanded bluntly. She probably could have been more polite, but frankly, being pulled out of the meditation right when she was probably about to get answers was enough to slam dunk her into a pissy mood.

The girl sat down on the bed beside Michelle, neatly brushing a loose strand of white hair behind her ear. While she wore her hair at the same length as Michelle’s new style, hers was neat and straight, as compared to Michelle’s wavy and slightly unruly mass of hair. The girls tunic was pure white, with the loose pants an extremely light grey. Her undershirt was an extremely pale violet, and covered everything up her neck, and the tunic had a more modest neckline that Michelle’s anyways. She also had sleeves, long and baggy. Her tabard was lilac, and seemed to be the same type as Michelle’s, although her waist was cinched with a wide cloth belt of the same colour as the tabard. Now that Michelle was actually looking at her, she was extremely pretty.

The boy was short, which is a given for a twelve year old, and still had a severe case of baby face. His hair was a sandy shade of orange, and looked as if it won a fight against a comb earlier that day.     His tunic was royal blue, and secured with a dark purple belt, with some of the cloth falling down to his shins, almost like a skirt.

“How do you fight in that tunic? It looks like it’d get tangled around your legs or something. I mean, I can respect the style, but it seems impractical on some level.” Michelle asked, head tilted slightly at the sight.

“I see some things never change. I’m Seha, and he’s Isaac. We’ve been friends for years. I’m seventeen, Isaac is twelve. We’ve got two more friends, that are both crechemates of yours, but they’re both out of the Temple right now.”

“Wow. More than two friends. That’s really impressive, by my standards. I should get an award. Made multiple friends. Jedi of the fuckin’ year here.”

Seha snorted, and Isaac snickered. Things then lapsed into an awkward silence.

It was the sort of awkward silence where the entire room knows it’s painfully awkward, and is desperately trying not to acknowledge it, in order to just pray the awkwardness goes away. Incidentally, it was not going away.

Finally, after about five minutes of half assed attempts at conversation, Michelle gave in to brutal honesty.

“So, just checking here, I’m not the only one finding this painfully awkward, right? It’s not just me and my lack of memories? Because on my end, it’s just two strangers in my room talking like they know me - er, no offense - and I’m sure it’s got to be a little weird on the other side of things. Right? I’m not just crazy here?” Michelle said, looking around at the other two teenagers with raised eyebrows.

“No, no, it is supremely awkward. I’ve been regretting life choices for the last five minutes.” Isaac immediately agreed, nodding in agreement with Michelle’s statement.

“Well, I wasn’t going to just call us out like that, but yes, this has been a bit awkward. Maybe we should go?” Seha suggested, getting off the bed. A slightly irrational stab of guilt went through Michelle.

“Oh, no- I didn’t mean it like leave, I meant it like- fuck, what did I mean it like?”

Seha laughed.

“Oh, Michelle, no, I meant the three of us should go walk around the temple, see if we can spark something in your head. Or, at the very least, let you get re-acquainted with both us, and the temple.”

“Well. That’s better than what I had expected. Yeah, I’d be in for that. Uh, Isaac, are you okay with it?”

The ginger gave a long sigh, and flopped back on the bed, an arm dramatically falling over his eyes.

“Ugh. I wish. Nah, I’ve got class starting in - good lord, ten minutes. I need to run. Is it acceptable to show up late for temporal physics class and claim you accidentally time traveled?”

“Probably not. I’d haul ass if I were you.” Michelle advised, earlier awkwardness fading. The younger boy got to his feet, grabbed his bag, and gave a small salute.

“Comrades, I leave you now, though not for any ominous reason. One day, I will come back. And until that day, carry forwards in your beliefs, and prove to me I am not mistaken in mine-”

“Your class starts in eight minutes now.” Seha calmly pointed out, interrupting the blossoming monologue.

“Oh no!” Isaac yelped, before sprinting from the room, and out of the apartment. Apparently his tunic did not get in the way of running, so good on him.

Michelle and Seha were left standing in the room, his glorious departure hanging in the air between them.

“There he goes. Our idiot son.” Seha said with a fond sigh, folding her hands over her heart. Michelle burst out giggling, and was quickly joined by the other girl.

The door to the bedroom opened again, and a confused looking Coltin stuck his head in.

“Does someone want to explain why a thirteen year old sprinted out of here in a blind panic?”

“Temporal physics and monologues.” Michelle deadpanned, before breaking out into giggles again.

“...I don’t understand kids these days.” He sighed, before closing the door again, sparking a third round of giggles.

“So, you want to head out?” Seha suggested once her laughter had finished, eyes still sparkling with amusement.

“Yeah, sure, let’s go! ...Where are we going?”

There was a pause, as they both thought over the subject.

“We could head down to the salles for a spar?” Seha suggested, a hopeful look to her face.

Michelle winced, looking over at the lightsaber hilt on her bed.

“I… don’t think that’s a good idea. I mean- I don’t actually remember how, and I think we’re just asking for someone - probably me - to get their head cut off. And… I kind of like my head not cut off. If that makes any sense.”

Seha frowned, but nodded slowly.

“I will admit, I also prefer your head not cut off. Oh! I could teach you! I’m literally the top of our age group in lightsaber fighting, and even though you don’t remember the moves, the muscle memory’s still there. You’d be an easy student, you’re normally great at this stuff. Oh! And this would be great practice, or extra credit, we’ve gotta do this! Come on, I’ll be mostly gentle!” She exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement.

Michelle took a cautious step back, eyeing the older girl carefully.

“You… uh, you really enjoy fighting, huh?”

“ _So much_. I’m working on becoming the combat master of the temple, I know I can do it! And I’ve been working on expanding my form, right now I’ve just got one lightsaber but there’s a quartet of white crystals in our archives with my name on them, I just know I’m meant to fight with two double-ended blade. Er, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves. My violent and glowing future aside, I’m sure I’d make a great teacher for you. I’m already working as a teaching assistant for the youngling classes. Not that you’re a youngling. You’re less… I don’t know. Young.”

“Alright, I guess I’ll go for a spar with you…”

“REALLY!? Sweet! Come on, grab your saber, let’s go right now! Oh, I am going to teach you so much, do you remember what your usual form is? Of course you don’t, what am I saying, let’s go, we’ll do this from the top, it’s going to be amazing, and I mean obviously you’re not a form I or II person, but I think you were mostly-”

“Seha! I don’t actually know what you’re talking about!” Michelle protested, casually removing her arm from the other girls’ excited grip. This didn’t affect her enthusiasm in the slightest.

“I know! Isn’t it great? Come on!”

Michelle had the distinct feeling she was getting herself into something that she would probably regret. But she had agreed to it, and frankly, the opportunity to actually learn how to use a lightsaber was just so fucking cool how could she _not_ do it? So, ignoring her slight feeling of dread, she grabbed her lightsaber off the table, and followed Seha out of the room.

“Where are you girls off to now?” Coltin asked looking up from the datapad he’d been reading on the couch.

“I’m going to re-introduce Michelle to sparring!”

“Shocking. I take it your usual partner is out of the temple?”

“Ugh, _yes_. Zinnia’s not going to be back until tomorrow. At least Isaac’s still here, he’s usually good for a few rounds. I mean, I can take him, but it’s a good chance to try out new moves, y’know?”

“Keep this up, and the only person who's going to be able to keep up with will be Kenobi. Have fun, and don’t run Michelle too hard!”

“Pfft, I’m good, but I’m not Kenobi good. Come on ‘Chelle, I need to kick your ass. For _science_. Or something like that.”

And with that, Michelle was dragged out of the apartment, neither party noticing her shocked expression.

They were talking about Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Which, if Michelle’s knowledge of Star Wars was right (and it usually was), meant that he was most likely knighted, or at least old enough to have made a hell of a name for himself. Probably knighted, as Seha mentioned she wasn’t as good as him, but that she was the best in their age group.

Which meant that Michelle was in a point in time where she was potentially at risk of Order 66. No, not potentially, definitely.

Well. Fuck.

~

There were worse situations to be in, really. She could have ended up in the old republic era. That would be back, on account of her not really holding more than a general knowledge of that time in the Star Wars lore. As in, she knew there was some dude named Revan and he did some things, and that was it. On the flip side, she could have ended up in Imperial times. That would have been even worse, as not only would she have not had a Jedi order to go to, she would have been a Force Sensitive with no training, in a galaxy where a massive genocide of Force Sensitives was ongoing. So knowing the sequence of events would have been little help there, as she probably couldn’t have lived to get to any position to influence them.

Yeah, it was probably for the best she was in the last few years of the republic.

How many of those years she had would have to be figured out though.

Provided this wasn’t all some weird coma, which she still wasn’t completely certain of, she essentially had knowledge of the future. Exactly when she was would be harder to find out, as she’d never remembered how the Republic dating system worked, and as she was before the Battle of Yavin, nobody was using BBY or ABY dating systems yet. Possibly nobody ever would, as she’d never known if that was a canon thing, or just a fan thing. Honestly, it would have been easier to orient herself if she’d landed in the original trilogy, simply by asking how long the Empire had been around. Eighteen years in came the Death Star. Simple.

But she wasn’t, so she’d have to get creative in figuring out when she was.

For a starting point, she was probably sometime after the incident on Naboo, but before the end of the Republic. At most, she had thirteen years before Order 66 was called. At worst, she had like, a day.

...Now that was a terrifying thought.

First things first, if Order 66 was called while she was in the Temple, she was bolting. At least for right now, she’d be completely helpless, and she sure as shit wasn’t going to sit around waiting for Vader to massacre her.

If the Clone Wars were running, she had anywhere between three years, to that one day. She’d wait to see if she saw a clone, or heard something about a war, and then she could orient herself by finding out how long the wars been running. Simple.

If the Clone Wars weren’t on yet, and _god_ she hoped they weren’t, her best shot would be finding Anakin Skywalker, and using his age to orient herself. She’d never been able to remember the specifics of anyone’s age, but she had known that he had been 19 when the Clone Wars started.

So, first order of business. Find Anakin Skywalker, and then make plans.

“Alright, here’s the salles!” Seha said cheerfully from somewhere in front of Michelle, snapping her out of her plotting.

“...Huh?” She said intelligently, slightly off balance from being brought out of her deep musing.

“Wow, what’s on your mind? You were zoned out the entire way down here.”

“Ah… nothing really, just… things. Not important, don’t worry about it. So, uh, sparring?”

“Yes! Right! Sparring!”

Michelle pushed her plans to the side as Seha dragged her into a sparring salle. She would have time to plan this stuff later anyways. For now, she had to learn how to fight with a goddamn lightsaber. Which, regardless of the time, fell in with her plans, so technically speaking this was going to be a productive afternoon no matter what.

Michelle wasn’t entirely sure if she was in a good situation or a bad situation, but the fact that ‘learning how to lightsaber fight’ was a genuine activity she could do was a massive plus on the whole mess.

~

Learning how to lightsaber fight was literally the worst thing ever.

Even with her brand new muscles that she had somehow, Michelle was still sore and exhausted by the end of it. The multiple burns didn’t help, even with the lightsabers having been set to a power level that couldn’t break skin.

Seha had been happy about her progress though, claiming that she burned through the equivalent of three years of basic training in their five hour session. Apparently muscle memory really _was_ a factor in this, which was another thing Michelle was pushing to the back of her mind in the ‘weird thing with no explanations’ pile. And who was happy to fight for five hours? Apparently Seha was. She really hadn’t been kidding about her goals as a combat master.

Staggering into the door of the apartment hurt, and she was seriously considering just sleeping on the couch. This marvelous plan was foiled by the fact that Coltin was sitting on this couch.

“Move, I’m gay.” She ordered, before flopping face first into it. Fortunately, Coltin was on the far end, so instead of face planting into his lap, she was merely doing her best to make her torso and head one with the cushions, while her legs stuck out over the armrest.

“You move, I’m pan.” Coltin retorted, shoving her back a bit. She gave an incoherent groan in response.

“Did you have fun with Seha today?” He asked, in the tone of someone who knew the answer and was just asking to be a dick.

“Seha is a monster. She is a monster and she wants me to suffer. Just one more round she said. _Fifteen fucking times_.”

“In all fairness, that means you believed her fifteen times.”

“I’m a sucker for a pretty girl. Damn, this is my problem. Girls. I should run away and become a cave hermit. No more girls. I’ll be free. Life could be good for me.”

Coltin ruffled her hair, earning a drawn out noise of protest that eventually shifted into a general complaint at the existence of the world. It was really impressive how much feeling Michelle could put into a single sound.

“Well, after dinner you can stagger off to bed. We’re temple bound for at least a month until you’re judged combat ready again, so you’ve got a lot of work ahead of you. Oh, and let’s not even talk about what you’re going to have to do to get up to scratch in your classes.”

Michelle groaned again, and continued her valiant attempt to fuse with the couch.

“Hey. For what it’s worth, your memories might come back. We don’t know for sure. And even if they don’t, you’ve probably got a lot of things up in there subconsciously. It’s not that bad of a setback. And even if it does turn out to be a massive setback, or you never get your memories back, I’m not giving up on you kiddo. We’re gonna make you a Jedi Knight, even if it takes an extra decade or so.”

Michelle was glad for the fact that her face was merged with the couch, because she had a sudden, embarrassing prickle of tears in her eyes. Goddamn gratitude, making her have feelings. Goddamn Jedi, accidentally being extremely comforting.

“Thanks Master.”

And above all, goddamn Seha for getting her tired enough to be visibly emotional. Her cool kid façade. Ruined.

She needed to find new friends. Or hold out to meet the other two that she apparently had. Or both. Both was good.

But for now, she’d settle for dinner and bed.

~

The next day, Coltin took her down to the salles again for some training that wasn’t at Seha’s level of fucking crazy.

The pace was a lot slower for one thing, and he seemed to have a better understanding of the fact that she genuinely had no idea what she was doing. Her apparent muscle memory could only really take her so far, and it was slow going after the barebones basics were done with. Fortunately, Coltin was a lot more forgiving than Seha.

They started up in the morning, and worked straight until noon. Right as Coltin was taking her through a cool down exercise, a dark skinned girl wandered into the salle, and called a greeting to both of them.

She was tall, in that she was the same height as Michelle, but wore her hair shorter, brown messy curls that barely touched the base of her ears. A padawan braid stood out, around the same length as Michelle’s. She was wearing what seemed to be the standard loose pants, hers in black, and had a short, dark red tunic, the V-neck showing her dark purple undershirt. She also seemed to have forgone the standard tabards, and was instead wearing a dark leather jacket, the same shade of leather as her boots.

Clearly, this girl was the rebellious type. Michelle was interested.

“Sup Master Andross! Just got back to the temple like, an hour ago, heard about Michelle’s injury. Mind if I kidnap her to get re-acquainted?” The girl called, an easy going grin on her face. Michelle got to her feet from her earlier stretch, and gave her master a questioning look, wondering if it was okay, or if she had lessons to get into now or something.

Coltin responded with a warm grin.

“Sure, you can-“

“Awesome! Because I was gonna do it anyways, but now I’m allowed to. Sweet! Come on dude, I need to re-introduce you to your favourite spot. You love it. Will love it. Force, it’s almost like I already know you or something. I’m Zinnia by the way, since you apparently don’t remember me, we’re the same age. Crechemates and besties.”

Zinnia kept up rambling along that lines, a constant stream of happy chatter as she manhandled Michelle out of the salles, and then dragged her around the temple. It was almost impressive how long one person could spend _talking_ , even with Michelle not managing any responses beyond vague noises.

Frankly, all the chatter was making her slightly uncomfortable. But this girl was supposed to be Michelle’s childhood friend, so asking her to tone it down would be… weird. Better to just blend in and roll with things. Since Michelle had somehow ended up in the Star Wars universe, with everyone thoroughly convinced she lived her entire life there and belonged in the temple. Really, at that point you need to stop questioning things, and just roll with the punches. So she listened to Zinnia ramble, and agreed with her in the right places.

Finally, after a ridiculous amount of walking and endless chatter from Zinnia, they arrived at a small garden, out of the way, with was seemed to be a deep lake taking up most of it.

“So! Confession time, I actually dragged you out here for a reason. Very important. Just need you to answer a little question for me.” Zinnia said brightly, giving an odd little smile. The scenario was starting to feel a little surreal.

And then things got even more surreal, as Zinnia slammed her against the wall with the Force, and drew her lightsaber, aiming it at Michelle with pure murder in her eyes.

“ _Who the fuck are you?_ ” Zinnia growled, mouth set in a hard scowl, and aggression clear in every part of her stance.

Michelle had the sudden feeling that she was in a bad situation.

* * *

 

Padawan Seha Ashjian, age 17, and the future goddess of stabbing shit with a lightsaber.

Padwan Isaac O'Brien, age 12, the token white boy, and should be shorter and more baby face than this but look the character creator doesn't do kids okay work with me here.

Padawan Zinnia, age 15, and does not have a last name on account of her culture doesn't do that.


End file.
